


Three Christmas Alternatives

by angelbabe_cj



Series: Holiday Prompt Ficlets 2015 [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Established Relationship, F/F, If You Squint - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Millicent does not have a happy background, implied BDSM, the story has a happy enough outcome though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 22:21:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6060157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelbabe_cj/pseuds/angelbabe_cj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Millicent reveals some family history about Christmas and plans are suggested. Sad themes.</p>
<p>Holiday Prompts 2015: I don’t ‘do’ the holidays (Millicent/my choice) from Gelsey</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Christmas Alternatives

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gelsey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gelsey/gifts).



> Not a pairing I've written before. I created a very sad backstory for Millicent. The suicide which is mentioned is completely non graphic and off screen. It is an important point to her backstory though.
> 
> Thank you so much to [Gelsey](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Gelsey/pseuds/Gelsey) for betaing the fic she prompted!

“You heard me,” Millicent said, not looking up from the column of figures she was frowning at. She could _not_ find where the other fifteen sickles and seventeen knuts had gone, and it was becoming increasingly frustrating. The figures had been double checked against bills and invoices, the petty cash and the wage slips, and nothing was making sense. She tried glaring instead. Not that that strategy had ever worked before. 

“Mills, you can’t be serious. It’s Christmas. Surely your family has traditions or something you’re to be invited to?” came the indignant voice from the chaise longue. The fact that the current occupant was the only person who ever used the thing (and used it in the original fainting couch style at that) was neither here nor there. It had endured through two fits of office reorganisation purely for Pansy’s use, but there was no reason to tell her that. In any case Millicent was sure she already knew.

Millicent ignored her and the intent look she knew was being directed her way. Instead she rubbed across her eyes and took a deep breath, knowing she’d have to start the checks all over again. Maybe she’d eventually find out if she got to yell at somebody else or she only had herself to blame. 

“Seriously, Mil,” Pansy said, after Millicent’s mind had drifted once more into a world of figures and the problems relating to them. Pansy’s voice was softer now. The sort of concern she didn’t often show in public but increasingly did in private.

Millicent looked up and sighed. Not going to be an easy conversation. She set her quill back into its rest and stood, brushing off her robes and walked around her desk to where Pansy lay in an elegant sprawl. 

“We don’t actually celebrate Christmas. Haven’t in any real way, well, ever really,” she admitted. It was a family secret almost. There were certain social events her parents always put in an appearance at, but in their home there were no decorations and what few gifts were exchanged within the family were passed in a stilted and formal way where nobody was actually permitted to acknowledge it happened outside a single formal thank you. Certainly no events were held in the Bulstrode household.

She eyed the space occupied by Pansy’s feet and was relieved when the unspoken request was granted by a shift of the feet to the floor. Pansy sat up, pressing up next to Millicent as she sat heavily. She’d never had to tell anybody before, and the arm which snaked its way around her back was actually a comfort she found she wanted and needed. She sighed and dropped her head onto her girlfriend’s shoulder, unable to look at her.

She fiddled absently with the cuff of one of her sleeves, a habit she had mostly broken herself of, at least outside of her house. The hand on her back rubbed softly, and she found the strength to speak.

“I didn’t realise anything was strange until I was about five or six, I thought everyone did things the same way as us. Then I went to visit a friend - I don’t even remember who it was now - and I saw all their decorations and asked about them. Nobody had warned their mother, and she had to sit down and explain Yule and Christmas to me. I felt so… cheated.

“I didn’t get told the full reason for another few years, just that ‘Father doesn’t celebrate this holiday and we must respect that,’” she said in a good mimicry of her mother. “It’s not something we talk about, really. Not something anybody talks about, but he had a brother who killed himself on Christmas Eve. Apparently it’s a pretty unusual time to do it, most people wait until after the holidays are over, but he did, and Father found him on Christmas morning when he went to collect him for the gift exchange. He was only fourteen, and he’s refused to celebrate since. Bad associations. I think Mother tried to coax him into it when they were first married, but she could never manage it. They attend all the social functions they have to, but they never host any, and I think it’s a sort of unspoken thing in their circle that everyone knows about. At least the adults.” She was speaking quietly, feeling odd divulging family business like this.

“I exchange gifts with Mother and the rest of the family, but never Father. I know Cyrus started celebrating after he got married, for Melody, and then the children, but I’ve never done it,” she said, shrugging awkwardly.

“But all the gifts… you went to the school Christmas everything, you bought me presents,” Pansy said, clearly confused.

“Social obligation,” Millicent replied, knowing her tone implied it answered everything when it actually answered very little. 

“You… oh,” Pansy said, sounding hurt.

“It’s not that I didn’t like your gifts, or I didn’t put thought into what to get you,” she said, pulling her head from Pansy’s shoulder and looking at her, willing her to believe. “You must believe that. I cared about the exchanges, the friendships it showed,” she said, taking the dainty hand Pansy had resting in her own lap between her two larger ones and bringing it up to her mouth to kiss the knuckles.

Millicent looked away again. “It’s just the holiday doesn’t mean family or celebration to me, it means Father locking himself in his office or his bedroom for the day and Mother acting as if it’s a normal day despite the fact the house elves always tried to put at least one special dish on the menu. One of somebody’s favourites or a particularly well decorated dessert. They got told off every year, but they never actually stopped. It was their one act of wilful defiance. Mother never quite meant her punishments enough, and she never told Father.”

Pansy’s hand that wasn’t clasped between Millicent’s own was carding through her hair, and Millicent felt some of the tension release from her body as she recognised this. 

“Sorry I never told you, Pans,” she said quietly.

“No, no,” Pansy said, suddenly reassuring. Millicent hadn’t been looking, she didn’t know what had changed her mind. “I was going to say I don’t mind, in a way I do, but I understand about keeping family secrets, it’s more that you’ve never got to experience Christmas. It’s a beautiful time of year, and the decorating thing is gorgeous, and having family time. It’s never quite harmonious, and somebody always says the wrong thing and several people spend the next three hours not speaking to them, but that’s just how it is. And it works.

“You really should come to my family for Christmas,” she said, turning back to where she’d begun this conversation.

“Pansy,” she said warningly.

“No, it will be wonderful. You’re my girlfriend, and Thales is always bringing whatever bimbo he’s shagging to family things. They never turn up twice and maybe Mama will finally, finally shut up about how it’s time for me to settle down with a wizard from a good family and have his brood of children,” she said, vitriol pouring out by the end.

Millicent sighed. This was why she’d wanted to say no initially. Not just the family thing (although that was a big part of it), but because Pansy’s family was so traditional and they hadn’t really believed or accepted when she’d told them she was more interested in women. Only interested in women, actually, now she’d passed the point of wanting to get power via a wealthy or influential husband and made wise investments of her own instead. 

“Because being insulted by your family is better than not celebrating with mine?” she said sarcastically.

There wasn’t a reply for a while and clearly Pansy was thinking. Her hand still carding absently through Millicent’s hair. It was soothing, and it was nice to have a break from the books for a few minutes and curl up like this. Especially after she’d told her about Christmas. Even though it was normal to her, she knew it seemed strange to everyone else. It was why she didn’t really tell people, after all.

“You’re right, you know, putting up with my family is a bit much. And… were you actually planning to go home for the holidays?” she asked. Millicent shrugged. She hadn’t actually decided. Since she’d left Hogwarts she’d sometimes gone home for a week over whatever winter break she got and sometimes not bothered. “So,” Pansy continued, drawing the word out in suggestion, “Why don’t we avoid my family and their insults, and your family and their non-Christmas, and do something else to celebrate, just the two of us?” she said.

“I dunno,” Millicent said, the idea seeming unsure and strange in the face of normal behaviour in her family and the imperfect nature of their relationship, which could be very volatile indeed.

“Nothing big, just spending the day together, exchange some small gifts, a nice meal, a mildly scandalous amount of sex,” Pansy teased, nails scratching slightly at Millicent’s scalp. Millicent pushed into the touch with a soft exhalation. It felt so good. 

Then she realised she was supposed to be considering Pansy’s idea. A Christmas with just the two of them. They didn’t have to make it extravagant, and they didn’t have to do anything either of them disliked. In a way she’d wanted to celebrate Christmas ever since she’d known about it. Certainly she’d enjoyed what small amount of school-based celebrations she had taken part in, but she’d let most of the habits she’d picked up fall by the wayside since then. She still bought presents for her closest friends and family (except Father, of course), but she still hadn’t taken up the idea of celebrating the season. She never sent cards, nor had she ever decorated her flat, but since she usually went to other people’s houses rather than have them visit her that hadn’t ever really been pointed out to her. 

The idea of a day with just the two of them though, good food, some presents, no oppressive family atmosphere and a total lack of obligation to get out of bed. That actually sounded appealing.

“I think maybe I’d like that,” she said quietly, turning her face up and kissing Pansy. It was just a brush of lips. The smirk spreading across Pansy’s face as she pulled back was unsurprising though. It was almost a default expression for Pansy, and it made Millicent smile. “I’m not promising anything, but we can talk about it. Okay?”

That got her a nod.

Millicent stretched and got to her feet.

“And now I have to get back to the books. Stay or go, I don’t mind, but no more interruptions. I need to concentrate.”

“Fine,” Pansy said, sounding put upon. She slid gracefully to her feet and pressed a kiss to Millicent’s lips. “I’ll see you later,” she added more softly before crossing the small space and slipping out of the door. A typical exit. And her typical response, which was to roll her eyes and shake her head to herself before getting back to whatever she was supposed to be doing.


End file.
